Brush Strokes
by SilverSeahorse
Summary: Time apart can change people forever... Can Remus and Sirius ever go back to how they were?


**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to JK Rowling except for the ones I have made up. I'm making no money, I am a poor student, and if you want to sue me all you'll get is some paper clips.

This is an AU fic, set initially sometime post-Hogwarts, and yes, it's slash, Sirius/Remus. I don't want to say too much more except if you enjoy it please feedback and make me happy :)

* * *

**Brush Strokes - Chapter One**

"And that is why I don't think we should see each other any more. Ok?"

No answer follows and Sirius spins around, frowning, to find that the kitchen is devoid of pretty blonde girls. In fact, the only other inhabitant is James, and that's just because he's wandering in looking for food; Sirius can spot a food-hunter when he sees one.

"Where did she go?" he demands. James glances at him before opening the fridge.

"To find eternal love, I reckon," he replies, pulling out the remaining chocolate cake quarter. "Or maybe she realised you were treating her like shit and decided to get out before she was pushed." He shrugs and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Who am I to guess?"

Sirius throws James a loathsome look and runs a hand through his unkempt hair. "Well, that's just brilliant. I spent all morning rehearsing that speech and she bloody runs away without listening to it!"

"Yeah, people can be so selfish," James deadpans, licking cream off his fingers. "Breaking it off in the kitchen, though – that's a new one."

"You and Peter are taking up the living room," Sirius bites back. "And as if I'm going to lead her upstairs under these circumstances. She'd get the totally wrong idea."

James is eyeing him with something approaching disdain, and Sirius feels the frustrated anger building up inside him, as it has been doing at random intervals throughout the last week. He doesn't know exactly why, seeing as nothing particularly annoying has happened during that time apart from the usual stuff he'd normally offload with a shrug and a smile. There is ONE possible reason behind his increased tetchiness, of course, but that is best left untouched in his mind – for the moment, anyway.

"Well, you're free to entertain all you like tonight," James says eventually, seemingly deciding that Sirius is still an alright guy, really. Sirius lets himself feel flattered. "I'm out with Lily, and if I'm not mistaken, Peter's got a date, too."

Sirius smirks. "Oh, yeah? That girl round the corner? Rachel something?"

James nods, polishing off the last of the cake. "Rachel something is about all I know, as well. He's being very secretive – not that I disapprove." He wrinkles his nose. "Hearing about YOUR exploits is quite enough without suffering Peter as well."

"Perfectly reasonable," Sirius nods, the wave having subsided for the moment. "I have the place to myself, then? Maybe I shouldn't have broken up with Lydia right before a night of housematelessness…" This is all for show, to wind James up a little, provoke a reaction, but all James does is dump his dish in the sink and tell Sirius to have a good night before departing. _Have a good night?_ That's rubbish, Sirius moans inwardly as he stares after James, trying failingly to push away the memory of someone else who would have risen wonderfully to the bait and good-naturedly gone along with Sirius' silly banter because he wasn't bogged down by some silly bird.

"Well, it's not my fault he buggered off," Sirius snaps at no one, and then storms from the kitchen in search of company for the evening.

* * *

The _Three Broomsticks_ is heaving by the time Sirius gets there, but he doesn't mind. He enjoys being in a big crowd, forced to charm everyone in sight to avoid being trampled on. He also knows that this number of people means there has to be a decent girl here somewhere, and it's that thought more than any other which keeps him going as he fights his way to the bar.

"Oh, and it's Sirius Black!" Madam Rosmerta, the pretty young barmaid, smiles flirtatiously at him as she spots him approaching. "What'll it be, love?"

Sirius grins, knowing Rosmerta has a weak spot for him. "Firewhiskey with a twist, please, babe," he replies, winking and making her giggle despite herself. As she goes to get the drink, Sirius leans on the bar and drifts his gaze around the room, trying to find someone he knows. Happily, it falls upon Emily, a short, slim brunette he dated a few months ago and always fancied another night with. He catches her eye and she smiles warmly, which Sirius decides has to be a good sign. He accepts his Firewhiskey from Rosmerta and departs for the other side of the room, where Emily is sitting by herself at a round table.

"And to what to I owe this pleasure?" Emily's dimple is so adorable, and her cheeks are all rosy. Sirius takes the liberty of the seat next to her, and leans in conspiratorially.

"The pleasure's all mine when you look so ravishing," he says, wiggling his eyebrows in what he hopes is a suggestive manner. Emily laughs, which would be disconcerting were it not for the fact she is also placing her hand on his knee and squeezing gently.

"You're lucky you're gorgeous, or else I'd be walking away at the cheesiness of that line," she grins, and Sirius grins back. The fact that she's not walking away gives him a clear sign she's up for a good night. "It's been a while. What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know," Sirius replies, not sure how to explain he's been up to pretty much nothing since school ended. And that was two years ago. "This and that. Spreading my love around the country. How about your lovely self?"

"I'm training to be a Healer, as you know," Emily says, obviously giving Sirius far too much benefit of the doubt, but he nods benignly. "That takes up most of my time, leaving not a lot for the more fun things in life…" She turns her face up coyly and Sirius feels a pressure down below that must be acted on, no matter what.

So he kisses her, and she kisses back, and they're kissing in the middle of the _Three Broomsticks_ for an inordinately long time. The place is so busy that no one's looking or caring that Emily's hand is sliding up Sirius' thigh, or that Sirius' fingers are working their way underneath Emily's top. And they both know this is simply fun, companionable sex with nothing attached, but it doesn't matter because not everyone can be like James and Lily and their proper relationship, and sometimes your first choice isn't available anyway.

When they finally draw breath, Emily's chest is heaving rather attractively. Sirius runs a hand through his hair and moves his lips closer to her ear.

"Fancy coming back to my place?"

Emily nods, and Sirius takes her hand to lead her out of the pub, realising too late he hasn't even touched his Firewhiskey. Oh well, there's plenty at home, he thinks as he drapes an arm around Emily and walks with her along the deserted cobbled street. They pass shops and a few houses and then the Shrieking Shack, at which point Emily gives a shudder in Sirius' arms.

"What?"

"Just that place. It's creepy. It's haunted!"

"No, it isn't," Sirius says without thinking, and then blinks. Emily is staring at him. "Er, I mean, well, there's no proof, is there? I like to see stuff before I believe it."

"So do I," Emily replies huskily, "which is why, from past experience, I believe tonight won't be a waste of time for me."

Sirius laughs. "Hell yeah, darlin'. I've never been known to give a disappointing performance."

They're almost at the house, and it would all be fine if Sirius wasn't looking back down the road. He sees a shape lurking in the shadows that looks, to him, strangely familiar. His throat tightens and he wants to stop for a while, but Emily's pulling on him and she has no idea what the matter is. Sirius hopes the shape isn't who he thinks it is, because he's simply not prepared.

"Sirius? Come on sweetie, I don't have all night to wait…"

Sirius turns to see Emily, the top button on her shirt undone, showing her impressive cleavage as she starts inching up her skirt. He'd forgotten she was so easy, and licks his lips as he opens the front door and lets her inside first. Shagging her will, he hopes, distract his mind from what – or rather, who – he saw outside… but he doesn't bet on it.

* * *

James tries to remember a morning in the past two months when he hasn't stumbled downstairs to find a girl he doesn't know sitting at the kitchen table. Usually she's wearing a shirt of Sirius' and nursing a pot of coffee, and this one, he sees, is no different. In fact, he's pretty sure she's been here before.

"Hi, James," she says brightly, looking up from the newspaper she's been reading. This throws James right off, apart from giving him conformation she MUST have been here before. How else would she know his name? If Lily knew random girls knew his name, he'd be in trouble. It's thankful that Lily left early that morning.

"Er, hi," James replies uncertainly, edging past her gaze to the fridge. There is no milk. He bets SHE has used the last of the milk. She's stolen the milk! That's so… Well, actually, James thinks reasonably, it's not her fault. The poor girl has to drink something before she is unceremoniously chucked out on her ear.

"Would you like some coffee?" she asks, generously, and James nods. "Sirius will be down soon, I'm sure."

James snorts. "It's half past nine on a Saturday, don't bet on it."

She shrugs. "Well, it doesn't matter either way. I'll be out of here soon. I have a train to catch."

"Oh?" James wonders if Sirius managed to dump her already.

"Yeah, I'm off to Spain for a fortnight's holiday. You know, what with it being low season over there, because it's winter here, and my grandma has a lovely little villa on the Costa del Sol." She munches her toast. "I can't wait."

James blinks. "Right. That sounds good. I've never been. To Spain, I mean."

"No?" She cocks her head curiously at him. "I love it. It's gorgeous. You should take Lily some time."

James knows he has to kill Sirius to stop him telling everyone his life story when he doesn't even know their name!

"It'll be like Cluedo," James tells Peter later, during lunch when the girl has departed and Sirius still hasn't shown. "I need to choose my weapon and my room of choice. What do you reckon?"

"Study with a baseball bat," Peter answers helpfully, picking bits of tomato out of his sandwich. James wants to ask why Peter has made a sandwich with tomatoes if he doesn't like them, but a more pressing matter is at hand.

"They don't have baseball bats in Cluedo," he says, rolling his eyes. "Just stuff like knives."

"Use a knife, then."

"Hmm." James strokes his chin. "Too obvious. No, I think in this instance a good old hex ought to do the trick!"

"That's what I thought," Peter chimes in, devouring what's left of his tomatoless sandwich.

* * *

Sirius wonders if perhaps he's going crazy. He has wondered this before without a satisfactory conclusion and now the time has come to try again. All the evidence is there. Why else would he feign sleep in order to force a perfectly nice girl to leave, when she clearly wanted a morning shag? And why else would he have had a nightmarish sleep full of people he didn't want to be thinking about?

"Fucking hell," Sirius moans, when he finally sits up in bed and the wintry sunlight hits him through an evil gap in the curtains. His head is slightly sore, although he knows he didn't drink much last night so that can't be it. "Probably another sign of madness," he says gloomily, before remembering that talking to oneself is the last bastion of the insane. "Fuck it all." And he goes for a hot shower.

Once suitably clean and dressed, Sirius goes downstairs and, finding the rooms devoid of Jameses and Peters, ventures to the window that looks out onto the street. Right, left, right again, and Sirius doesn't know what he's looking for, except that, well, he DOES, it's just not there. It can't possibly be there. It's just not on.

Sirius bites his lip. He knows that despite his denials, of COURSE it can be there. It belongs here at much as anything else. Maybe even more so, given the history. And while Sirius is aware that deep down inside he should be happy, and he thinks he probably is, he can't help the overriding feeling of helplessness that keeps rushing over his head. It's his own fault. He's simply useless at facing the truth, and his feelings.

In an attempt to distract himself from things that might or might not be there, Sirius retreats to the kitchen in search of a breakfast/lunch situation. He opens the fridge to discover, with some dismay, that there is no milk left. He supposes James has used it up, and wishes for a micro-second that he lived alone.

* * *

Remus stands in the doorway and stares, unable to believe he's here at last. The journey has been long and often painful, and it's a relief to be back on more familiar territory. Maybe the flat isn't quite up to the standard of Parisian villas, but it'll certainly do for the moment.

Behind him, Remus can hear someone close the door and make a funny little exhaling sound.

"Well, it's cosy," Georgia says, with something resembling a sigh. Remus can tell, without looking, that she's folded her arms. "I suppose we can look for a better flat once we get settled. I don't understand why you chose this town, out of all the amazing places we could've gone." She steps past him, shaking her blonde, curly-haired head, as if she finds Remus and his ways eternally confusing. She probably does, Remus muses, watching her pick up two bags and carry them through to the bedroom.

Of course, Georgia will never understand why Remus wanted to come back to Hogsmeade. To her, it seems bizarre to say the least. She had been touting for London or at the very least, another busy metropolis such as Manchester or Newcastle. Remus isn't bothered about her lack of enamour. In fact, if truth be told, he isn't particularly bothered WHAT she thinks. This is where he belongs; there was nowhere else on his very short short-list.

It's right there, out of the window. The autumn curve of the wind; the way the streets look old and dusty yet vibrantly alive at the same time; the infinitely intriguing shops and places of interest. Remus finds looking out at it something like observing his past through a dream. Any moment he is sure he'll wake up and find himself back in the valley, Georgia sleeping peacefully next to him as he tries to block out the sounds and smells of a life in the shadows. There are people he's forgotten, things he's probably never seen. Everything is new and ancient and Remus' breath mists the glass as tears film his eyes. He doesn't know what to do. He wants to embrace what went before without losing touch of what he has now. He's lucky, he knows that, but he can't help thinking he's missed so much he can never catch up on.

Remus wonders how his friends are. He thinks they probably hate him now, or at the least don't like him very much. He can't blame them. He wishes things could have been different. He wishes they hadn't stopped writing. He wishes HE hadn't stopped writing. He wants to know how James is and whether he's still with Lily. He'd like to find out about Peter's life and what kind of job he's ended up. Most of all, though, Remus is desperate to discover if Sirius is ok.

Sirius, out of the three, is the one who causes Remus disturbed sleep and tearful evenings alone when Georgia has gone out. Sirius is the reason Remus left and the reason Remus has come back, but he's sure Sirius won't be around here any more. None of them will, and once again, Remus will be solitary.

It's only what I deserve, Remus thinks, with a bitter laugh that clouds the air.


End file.
